


Lessons in Loss

by sharknana29



Category: Lockwood & Co. - Jonathan Stroud
Genre: Angst, Childhood Trauma, Developing Friendships, Feels, Ghosts, Male-Female Friendship, Spoilers, Trauma, flo bones lockwood friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-09 04:24:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20495744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharknana29/pseuds/sharknana29
Summary: Flo and Lockwood's friendship! Because no one writes about that! (And also I love Flo So Much)





	Lessons in Loss

**Author's Note:**

  * For [everyone in the L&C Discord](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=everyone+in+the+L%26C+Discord).

And a quick prod in the bottom for good measure. It may not have been my fault he fell but I had caused his loss and he was definitely going to know. Plus, no chance of being told I’ll have to redo that point if I’m definitely reigning victorious. The crowd goes wild, and no one contests my victory. The old codger I was going up against glares at me but walks off the platform, nose in the air. Hopefully I don’t see him again.  
I’m led off to a break room where I can have a drink and relax before the next round of competition. I might get to watch some tv too if I’m lucky. And most importantly, it’s a place where I’m left alone. No adults allowed, no traitorous teenagers, not even fellow competitors. Just how I need it right now.  
I open my mouth to speak to the air in front of me. “Hey, Jess. Hey, mum and dad. I hope you’re- I hope you’re proud of me.” My voice cracks and the tears start flowing. Elbows on my knees and my head in my hands, I stay like that for days, years, seconds.  
There’s a knock on the door, which opens immediately after. “You’re Gravedigger Sykes’ kid rig- Oh my gosh are you okay?” I look up and, through my tears, I can make out a tall blonde girl rushing over. She’s dressed like me, a white jacket and fencing trousers under a silver jacket. She bends down and squats before me, grabbing my hands. “Dude, what happened? Did you get hit too hard in that last round? I can tell the judges or someone and get them to postpone our round until you’re okay if you want.”  
Before I can stop myself, a harsh laugh fights its way forward. “What happened? What didn’t happen? My parents and sister are fucking dead and I have to risk my life every night.” When I dropped the F-bomb, the girl’s eyes went wide, but she doesn’t say anything and continues listening. I realize that I’m being extremely rude to this girl who has been nothing but kind to me, rushing to reassure me and trying to do everything in her power to help.  
I pull myself together, grabbing a tissue from the box on the table beside me. She waits for me to collect myself. Once I have, I get my first good look at her. Her eyes are a bright blue, and the printing on her pants, reading Bonnard, is nearly the same color. A wide face holds a broad mouth and an upturned nose with a faint line across it that implies she rubs her nose quite often. She looks like a nice person, someone I can trust. “What’s your name?”  
“Hmm? Oh, it’s Florence. Most people call me Flo, though. I’m okay with either one. What about you?”  
“Lockwood.” She gives me a look. “Or Anthony. Sykes calls me Lockwood and I’m used to it, sorry.”  
“Huh. That’s kind of weird, y’know. But cool.” She sits criss cross now, craning her neck up to see my face.  
“Did you come in here to get me? For the match?” I ask after we lapsed into a comfortable silence.  
“Yeah. But you needed some time, so we can wait ‘til you’re ready.”  
“Oh. Thanks. I think I’m good now.” I stand up, offering her my arm.  
Flo bounces up and loops her arm through mine. We walk in a mildly cheerful manner down the hall to the competition.  
Flo completely destroyed me in that tournament. I could tell she was going easy on me too. I’m glad she won and not that red-headed guy from earlier though.

I wake to the sound of a massive bang coming from downstairs. Checking the LED clock beside me, I find out that I’ve woken at 5:30. A rapier leans on the wall outside my room, so I collect that and a flare from the kitchen table before opening the door. No Stone Knockers ambushing me tonight.  
The first thing I do is peek through the curtain. No sense in opening the door if a plant holder was knocked over. Everything seems the same near the door itself, but then I look out into the garden. There, at the apple tree stands a figure. No other-glow, but I still have to be cautious. There’s enough light out for people to risk going out before curfew. I open the door a crack, just enough for my words to get through. “Who are you? Know that I’m armed.”  
Before I can slam the door shut, I hear a familiar snort. I stop before it’s fully closed. “I could beat you in a second, Locky.”  
“Flo? What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with Susan and Harry?” I open the door to let her in.  
“No. No, can’t go inside. Inside I’m trapped. No good.”  
Trapped? What is she going on about? Either way, something’s wrong. “Do you at least want some food?”  
“Sure. D’ya have some coffee?” I shake my head and grab a granola bar from a nearby cabinet. Offering her the bar, I sit down on the step before the door.  
“What happened, Flo?”  
“Harry didn’t do enough research. We got surrounded. Susan and Harry are fucking dead and I couldn’t do anythi-” She breaks off with a sob. “Why did they die but not me? I was the one that fucked up. Shouldn’t I be dead?”  
I grab her hands. “No. Harry and Susan should be alive, but I don’t think I would last much longer if you were gone.” Dammit, that was the wrong thing to say. Never put a life on someone else’s shoulders. I know this, come on, Lockwood. “Your common sense has saved my ass so many times, Flo. I need you. Don’t kill yourself. Please.”  
There’s a pause. I can hear Flo’s heavy breathing and feel her shaking next to me.  
“It was a couple’a Limbless. We thought it would be, like, a Bone-Man or something, from the priest's description, but no, it had to be a god damn Limbless, didn’t it? I thought we wouldn’t need any flares and they trusted my judgement. I got them killed, Lockwood. Me. And then when they get ghost-touched I drag ‘em into a corner and- and. I could only fit myself in behind the cross, Lockwood. They wouldn’t’ve fit. I promise.”  
She’s obviously distraught about not doing more for them. “I know, Flo. I know.”  
“I left them out there. The Limbless kept circling, they kept going through them. I didn’t have my rapier, all my salt-bombs were gone. I couldn’t do anything. I swear, Lockwood. There wasn’t anything I could do. I ran when the sun came out. I put nets on them. I had one wrapped around myself half the night, the least I could do was help ‘em out then, right?”  
I nod.  
“How did you do this, Lockwood? How did you survive when your family died?” The pain in her voice hurts more than the reminder of what happened to my family.  
“Hey. Hey. We still have each other. And I’m not going anywhere, okay? You won’t be alone ever again. I promise.”  
We stay huddled together in that moist summer dawn until the paper boy comes by and throws the paper at Flo’s head. Bastard. Gravedigger Sykes comes by soon after, and I manage to convince him to take Flo on as an apprentice. Maybe things will get better.

I wish I could say that Flo has gotten better. I really wish I could. But she hasn’t.  
She refuses to work with anyone else. If she’s indoors for more than half an hour, she gets a panic attack. After one person does research, she triple-checks it. She tried to do her own research once, but the moment she walked into the National Archives, she froze. I had to drag her out. When I asked her what happened, she said it felt like the shelves were going to collapse on her.

She left yesterday. I found a tent stuffed away in storage that she could use to sleep as to not feel trapped, but when I went out this morning, she was gone. There was a note left in the tent.

Gone to the Thames, won’t be back.  
I’m sorry, Lockwood.  
-Flo Bones

I scour the Thames day and night. My voice goes hoarse calling her name. I dread seeing all the rope piled nearby. My mind tortures itself, thinking up a million different scenarios, each of them worse than the last.  
At last, I find her huddled under a bridge. There’s a sack lying next to her, along with- she took one of my kitchen knives. That brings a smile to my face. That’s the Flo I remember. You know, I think she’ll be alright.

**Author's Note:**

> They're babies in this fic (10 in the first scene and 13 in the second)  
The jacket Flo is wearing is part of how fencing works, it helps the sensors detect who scored the point when competing with a saber, she isn't working at fittes


End file.
